There's a man on the side of the road selling dreams ... a guy comes up to him and says, "How much for a dream?" The Dream salesman says, "That depends, do you want a good dream, or a bad dream?" "I want the best dream I can get." "Did you know that your dreams are drawn from your own experiences?" asks the salesman. "Now I do. Maybe I could have somebody else's dream then," says the guy, hoping for a happy experience, and realising that his lacklustre life was not the material of amazing dreams. "Funny you should ask – I have a brother who sells books and lottery tickets, maybe he can help you." Last week about three million $35,000,000 dreams were bought in New Zealand. Four of them came true. For the rest of the dreamers many of them had made an unlikely investment based on an incredibly remote chance. The retelling of a dream, any dream, shifts and changes with time. If we are party to the telling of a dream – if in fact we are to be the author of somebody else's dream – it is important that we tell a good story. A photographer could record the moments of a dream (let's call it a wedding for argument's sake) as photographs. The photographer could put them in a box to remind people of the dream that once was. If the photographs become mixed up, and maybe some get lost or damaged, the story will be changed - confused, dimmed or even lost. That's why Queensberry invented albums, so the story doesn't become fuddled by time and carelessness. They invented albums to retell the dream in the best way possible for a long time to come. Good night everyone, sleep well Johannes